Princess Disaster

Chapter 4

"Adriane!" said a loud voice.

I woke up feeling myself being scrutinized by the sun's rays. I was wearing a silk two piece suit that barely lit up in the heat. There was the sound of water fountains running in the palace courtyard and the hint of an aroma that filtered around me. Was that coffee?

There she was - my mother. In spite of having protests and nice speeches saved up for this moment, I found myself speechless at the sight of her.

"You slept through the entire ball," she said, drinking her coffee. "Of course, I did not expect you to sleep so long but for 12 hours Adriane?"

"Sorry," was all I could say.

"You'd think nobody takes care of themselves in America."

I wanted to go on a long social-political explanation of America's issues, but I felt like this woman probably wouldn't care about any of that.

"You have to begin your princess lessons," says the Queen. "Of course, the head mistress Beratam has agreed to help you with the particulars. A full course in table manners, followed by singing lessons with Master Lucille de'Monte, followed by an evening learning the basics of the Tartarian language. Any questions?"

I shake my head, feeling like a small school child. Queen Cleodora excuses herself to make a call with the Prime Minister while I wander about the courtyard, feeling contemplative.

There are many statues in this courtyard including one to the Grand Tsar Nikolamius Tartian that shows his fierce determination when heading into battle against Napoleon. Another, older but still culturally significant, shows Saint Therese Vulcanite, a princess who never married and became one of the most holy people in the empire according to the Catholic Church due to reverent regard for prayer.

I touch Saint Therese's face and think to myself that maybe, if I just allow myself to relax and fully enjoy the experience, it might not be so bad here after all.

...

This place is terrible! Absolutely terrible! There is no way that I can do this princess thing. I would rather go ahead and just leave here all-together.

Manners lessons was the most ultimate waste of time ever. Who knew that there could be so many different sizes of silverware to learn about? Including waiting until the part of the meal is served to used which utensil. In addition, not even being allowed to look like you could enjoy your meal - having to leave 2/3rds leftover. Whatever.

Then the singing lessons, who the hell needs those unless you're some kind of Disney princess prodigy? The whole time, Master Lucille repeated a key, and I was unable to recreate it - causing him to go into a full rant about the importance of a fine musical education. Only in Europe, I guess!

The Tartarian language, in addition, is nothing short of a nightmare. It's as if the original King of Tartaria decided to combine all the languages that he saw as unique and creative - then combining them to make the most difficult language of all. Who really cares about Russian and Turkish combined with Aramaic? Only the Tartarians whom seem themselves as culturally superior to all the rest.

Who cares right!? I'll go ahead and buy myself a plane ticket. Get my ass back out of here and on a plane to America where I belong. This is insanity. I cannot stay here any longer!!!

Only my friends seem to be disappointed in me - telling me that it's not every chance that I find a rich man to give me attention. It seems that they do not realize that I am in a hostage situation without any money to get out of the country. Instead, they tell me to "Open my heart" and "Be ready for new experiences." Whatever. Some kind of friends they are.